Soldier in the Back Alley
by Elle Reez
Summary: He was dying, but he had to keep his promise to the Princess of Hyrule. A retelling of the scene with the soldier in the back alley following Ganondorf's invasion.


He called himself Shiro.

He did go by a different name, once, but that was in the Before. Before the war, before Hyrule turned on itself, before his friends died in front of his eyes. Victory always came with a price. When Hyrule united once again, a new man rose, reborn from the pyres of the battlefield. But the memories...they wrecked havoc on his mind. For weeks, he sat on an old bed in an inn and stared blankly at the innocent patterns on the walls, for everything else reminded him of the war. Banging pots became bashing axes. Looming shadows became giant poes. Spilled whiskey became streams of blood.

He would do anything to forget. To start anew. He chose Shiro because it meant white-a blank slate. A new start. A new beginning.

But that beginning was ending. And the memories never faded.

His chainmail clung to him like a second skin. The sun's rays bore down on him. Sweat beaded down his neck and onto his eyelashes. His lungs burned with each gasp of oxygen as they tried to make each breath last.

But what he felt? Nothing. Only numb. He had a job to do, and dammit, he was going to complete it. He had to hang on. Somehow. He promised the princess. He just needed more time.

He had to force himself to keep his eyes open because each blink felt longer than the last. For reasons unbeknownst to him, he felt that Farore was keeping him alive. He kept himself still, not even allowing his fingers to twitch. Any movement, he thought, would cause the numbness to go away.

During those brief moments when death toyed with him, he saw faces. They were faces he had not seen in a decade. They were faces that were long gone, buried six feet under, perhaps fed to the worms. His mother, his father, his sister...they were the first to go, but the first to be remembered. They were killed by bandits who raided his childhood home before the war had began. That night, with tears streaming down his pink cheeks, he swore to avenge them. It was later discovered that the bandits were part of a growing opposition group that later started the war.

Next appeared the angelic face of a beautiful, dark-haired woman. He knew, upon their first meeting, that she was the one he was going to marry. After three years of trying to persuade her and four months of courting, they married. They were wed for seven months, until she placed herself in death's path, in the place of someone else. He didn't begrudge her for that, for he would have done the same. Yet, that didn't stop him from wanting to follow her. Hours after she died, he had tied a rope around his neck and had her name on his lips. At the last second, the door to his room crashed open and the rope was cut off his neck. All he remembered after that were hard, piercing blue eyes.

And last...was a couple. His best friends, the friends who saved him. The two embodied love, courage, and, most of all, sacrifice. They always had each other, no matter what. A blond man stood with a brown-haired woman. His features were stoic, but his eyes were warm, or as warm as the icy depths could be. His hand absently caressed the woman's arm. The woman leaned into his touch and gazed at her empty arms. The picture felt incomplete, but he couldn't figure out why. The man was killed while buying more time for his wife's escape. What came of the woman was never discovered, but Shiro assumed the worst since she never returned from that final night.

His head lolled slightly, but the small movement made the numbness disappear. Ah, so there was the pain. It felt like he was waiting for an eternity to feel the pain of dying. Now where was the boy?

The sun rose higher into the sky, making him feel hotter and more miserable. Was the boy ever going to come?

And then he finally heard them under his delirium. Was it really him? Familiar, light footsteps, running at full speed. He grinned to himself. It was time.

-ir, sir, do you need help? Oh, goddesses, Navi, what do we do? As a light bell sounded, barely discernable, Shiro focused his tired eyes on the boy clad in green.

"Are you the boy from the forest?" he croaked. His throat was terribly dry, and he had no saliva to remedy it.

"I am."

"I-I-I've-" he coughed. Ah, so that's what coughing up blood felt like. "...finally met you...I-I-I have something to t-t-tell you…"

"We need to get you help. Navi-" A grim, yet strong determination pervaded the boy's innocent features. Funny, its like he'd seen that same look before…

Shiro grabbed the boy's arm before he could leave. He held it in a weak grip, but it was enough. Ganondorf… he breathed. The pain was worsening. "Ganondorf, the Gerudo King of Thieves, betrayed our king. Zelda's nanny, Impa, sensed danger and escaped from the castle with our Princess…"

He had the boy's full attention now.

"I tried to stop Ganondorf's men from chasing them...but…" He cried out and released the boy's arm, the pain finally at his threshold. His breaths became more shallow. Spots appeared in his vision. He could barely see his own hands.

But he had to continue. "The Princess was...waiting for a boy from the forest...that's you…" He was fading in and out now. Blobs swirled around him. He tried to keep his focus on the forest green in front of him. Just a few more seconds…

"She wanted to give something to the boy…" For a brief moment, his vision cleared. The boy's deep blue eyes widened, enough for Shiro to see the color. His throat tightened. The picture wasn't complete because their boy still lived. He was alive. He had to do it for them.

He just needed one more breath. "If you received it from the Princess, hurry…"

Do it for them.

"To the Temple…"

Just one more second.

"Of…"

Just one more…

Time.


End file.
